Mechanics of Relationships:

Sorrow and Anger

Hiiro x Duo

 

Tawnya Kisaragi

 

“Well, with a lot of rest and some good food, I don’t see why he can’t recover fully,” Sally Po said, finishing the binding on Hiiro’s arm.  He had given some of his blood in a transfusion to Duo.  Wufei had wanted to help as well, but the Wing Zero pilot had told him that at least one person had to be able to complete their missions.  The Chinese youth had reluctantly agreed.  Hiiro sighed and nodded, allowing himself to relax on the bed across from Duo, who was out cold.

“But mind you, that’s only physically speaking,” Sally warned.  “If he tried to commit suicide, then he’s probably got a lot of mental scars that haven’t had a chance to heal properly.  The best thing the both of you can do is to remind him that he is not alone and that he is cared about.

“But, all things considered, Duo is in great shape.”

“Thanks Sally,” Wufei said from where he sat on a chair, his arms folded across the top rung and his chin resting on his arms.  Sally patted his shoulder.

“No problem, Wufei.  I’ll leave a couple prescriptions on the kitchen table that will take care of his fever and any possible infection he might have.  Also, make sure he stays as still as possible.  He’s got three weeks worth of damage to fix.  It will take time, he needs to be patient.”

“Arigatou,” Hiiro murmured, turning his head to look at Duo.

“My pleasure. I just wish I could do more.  Call me if anything else happens.  Just keep him away from any sharp objects for a while.”  She smiled at the two boys.  “I’ll show myself out.”

“Wait a minute, Sally, and I’ll go with you.”  Wufei jumped up and grabbed his jacket.  “I have to go to the hospital and make sure Trowa eats something and gets a few hours of rest.”  He turned to Hiiro.  “You need anything?”

“I’m fine.  Just make sure Trowa doesn’t end up in the bed next to Quatre.”  Wufei nodded and left, gently closing the door behind him.

Hiiro stared up at the ceiling.  He had never felt as scared in his life as he did right now, and he wasn’t exactly sure why.  Duo had passed out in his arms just as Wufei had returned to say that Sally Po was on her way.  He had to admit, the bleeding ivory skin had felt hot to his touch, but he had simply passed it off as an effect of the shower.  Never would he have thought his dark angel had a raging fever of nearly a hundred four.

He remembered gathering Duo’s slight weight in his arms and taking him into the first bedroom he came across.  He was lucky, the room had two king sized beds, a chest of drawers, a closet and large French doors that lead out onto a small balcony that faced the setting sun.  After carefully laying the unconscious teen on the bed, he had drawn the curtains around the doors shut.  Wufei showed up with towels and wrapped them around Duo’s arms to help stem the blood flow while Hiiro sat with the braided youth in his lap, arms hugging the fragile body close.  Blood was everywhere, turning Hiiro’s shirt and the bed into one big gory mess.  But he honestly didn’t care.  He had almost lost Duo, and he’d be damned if he was going to let go again.

It wasn’t until Sally arrived that he truly realized the amount and extent of the damage and abuse Duo had done to himself.  And Hiiro blamed himself because it had taken so long for him to figure out what was going on.  He had every clue right in front of his face, and yet he had still failed to protect the annoying American.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Duo was calling out in his sleep.  Hiiro sat up in his bed, eyes readjusting to the darkness.  Duo bit back a scream as Hiiro threw open the curtains to let in the pale moonlight.  Sometime during his fevered delusions, the Deathscythe pilot had managed to kick off the bed sheets, revealing his gaunt body covered in a fine sheen of sweat and the heavy bandages on his arms.  His eyes were shut tight and a moan escaped his fever-parched lips.

“No… NO!!… Please… please, no… God, please… please… Solo!” he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thrashed his head from side to side.  His arms and legs flailed out, desperately trying to fend off his attacker.  Hiiro felt as if someone had thrust a dagger made of ice into his chest.

“…he’s… got… mental scars…”

Duo had never talked about his past and Hiiro had never asked.  It was pretty obvious that he was caught in a memory of the past.  But what could have happened to make Duo scream out so?

“…the best thing… is remind him… that he is cared about…”

Hiiro reached out and grabbed Duo’s wrists.  If he didn’t stop moving around so, he was going to rip out all the stitches Sally had put in his arms and he would lose more blood that he didn’t have.  Duo bit back another scream and lashed out with his feet, struggling harder. 

“…please… Oh, God… Solo, I--… no… please, no… Solo… Solo, please… please, Goddamn it!… No!…”

They wrestled for a moment, the Deathscythe pilot managing to place a few good kicks and punches on Hiiro before he was pinned to the bed.  The Wing Zero pilot honestly felt that if his partner had been at his best, he would be the one pinned.  He would have never guessed Duo was that physically strong.

Duo tilted his head back as he let loose a long, high-pitched cry of absolute terror and agony.  His entire body arched up and off the bed, fighting against Hiiro’s restraining presence.  The knife twisted with each scream.  What kind of demon spawn was torturing his Duo so?

He screamed once, twice, before falling back to the bed, crying and murmuring incoherently.  When the Japanese teen was finally sure Duo wasn’t going to hurt himself, he released his partner and sat down on the bed beside him.  He felt helpless, powerless – feelings he neither liked nor wanted – to do anything of use.  Dejectedly, he brushed away some stray strands of hair from the other’s face and wiped away his tears.  Two shiny, amethyst eyes flickered open and looked up at him.  They were full of fever, pain and despair, but focused.

“…Hiiro?…” he whispered, his voice sounding distant and lost.

“I’m right here, Duo.  I’m not going anywhere.”

Hope glittered in his eyes and voice.  “You’re,” his voice cracked, “…you’re not going… going to leave me alone…are you?”

“No, Duo.  I’m going to stay right here with you.  I told you I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

Hiiro sucked in a breath.  Wufei was going to hate him… “Yes, I promised, Duo.  I promise.  No, no, don’t cry, Duo.  Daijoubu.  Everything is all right now.  Just go to sleep, ok?  Just go to sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up.  I promise.  I’m not going to leave you.  I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Duo smiled, his eyes unfocused, and his head fell into Hiiro’s comforting hand, his shaky grip on consciousness lost.

Unsure of what else to do, Hiiro slowly laid down next to Duo.  He wasn’t sure why he had just done that.  He wasn’t sure of anything but the turmoil in his head.  He gazed softly at the now relaxing form of Duo beside him.  What was it about the braided baka that threw his world so out of alignment?  Why did he feel himself fighting so hard with his training every time the American was in the room with him?  Every fiber of his being said he should leave the idiot where he lay, that Duo’s life wasn’t his concern and that if the American wanted to die, he should let him, and quite possibly help him too.  But like shooting Relena, it was something he simply couldn’t bring himself to do.

Wufei appeared a while later with the filled prescriptions and information on Quatre.  Hiiro told him of his promise, but the Shenlong pilot only smiled and said he didn’t mind.  He thought Hiiro was the better choice because he was around Duo more often than not.  It confused Hiiro slightly as to why Wufei seemed to be happy about the entire situation, but let it slide when Duo rolled over and curled up next to him.

 

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